Shadowed
by Sharn-sharn
Summary: Whitepaw is a young apprentice of ThunderClan, and he feels overshadowed by his brothers and sisters to the point that he doesn't believe he can prove his worth to his Clan. His mother talks to him about his strengths and weaknesses, and how he may better improve himself, and maybe, just maybe, he won't feel so shadowed anymore. Challenge for CloudClan.


**This is a challenge for CloudClan**

**. . .**

Frostbreath sighed happily, arching out her back and stretching her legs.

She was lying in a patch of sunlight, and it was lovely.

It felt as if she were bathing in the warmth of her mate's pelt, when, in actuality, she was merely baking herself in the sun.

She knew that Pinefoot's pelt wasn't as warm as she was making it out to be, no, she was merely hoping, because the sun would disappear over the horizon and there would be another freezing, chilly night.

It was leaf-fall, and Frostbreath knew that it would soon be leaf-bare.

She had only endured three of the horrifying seasons, and despite her name, she knew it was horrible.

For one, the temperature seemed to drop to unimaginable levels, added to the fact that her pelt wasn't as thick as the other cats in ThunderClan.

It would also be her kits' first leaf-bare.

Her first litter of kits had already seen their first leaf-bare, and were already a full season-cycle old. They were warriors, too, with her son newly minted, and her daughter an apprentice medicine cat.

With her mate, Pinefoot, Frostbreath had had two litters of kits, were her second litter already apprentices.

She couldn't have been more proud of them, too. They were so strong and so brave, never stepping down when they were needed.

But Frostbreath couldn't help but worry for her youngest- he was the runt of the litter, the smallest. Cloverleaf had been unsure if he would survive the night, but he had persevered, only to become very sick a few days later.

His eyes still hadn't opened, but once again, he had pulled through.

Despite what others said, Frostbreath knew, that her son, her precious little son, was a fighter.

He might be weaker than the others, but Frostbreath knew better.

He tried, he tried _so_ hard, but it still wasn't enough in the eyes of his brothers and sisters.

He no doubt felt overshadowed, and Frostbreath couldn't blame him.

She could see him from her position on the ground.

He was visible from a hundred fox-lengths away, what with his bright white pelt, and a pelt the colour of his wouldn't make him a very good hunter.

His eyes flicked to her form, and his lips pursed into an unhappy little frown, his eyes flickering sadness.

He looked hopeless, as if he had already given up.

Well, Frostbreath couldn't have that, now, could she?

"Whitepaw," she called, and his head snapped in her direction. "Come over here."

And he did, tail hanging limply after him.

His eyes, Pinefoot's eyes, scrunched closed, as if he were thinking of something particularly hard and couldn't figure out the answer.

Then they opened again, revealing their bright amber depths to the world.

"Whitepaw," Frostbreath murmured. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Whitepaw simply sighed, flicking his glance to the ground. He mumbled something under his breath, something that Frostbreath didn't catch.

"Hmm? What was that?"

Whitepaw sighed again, and he forced out, "I said that I didn't catch anything again. But I would have caught it had Leafpaw not stepped on that twig. It was his fault, not mine. But you know what really ticks me off?"

Frostbreath simply shook her head, making Whitepaw groan as he mewed, "When we came back, Leafpaw managed to catch a sparrow. And do you know what Oakstorm did when he saw that I had nothing? He laughed at me! He laughed and said that I should try better next time. He knows I'm a dud, and I can't do anything to change that," he said miserably.

"And what did your brother say?" Frostbreath prompted.

"You mean Leafpaw?" Whitepaw laughed, but it was horribly bitter. "He laughed at me, too. But he didn't say anything. I don't understand, though. Why am I so… so _ stupid _compared to the others? Why can't I ever do something right?"

Frostbreath sighed, and gazed at her son with a tinge of pity.

She knew how he felt, she had been down that road, but she had walked to the end, and she knew that he could, too.

"Whitepaw," she mewed gently. "I know exactly how you feel, and so does your father. When I was your age, I thought I was useless, that I had nothing that the Clan could benefit from. But then I found it, I found something that I could be happy about."

"What was that?" Whitepaw asked, seeming to be in doubt.

Frostbreath laughed. "You'll find out when you get older. But for now, think of something that you _know_ you're good at. Think of that and I guarantee that you'll get better."

"That's the problem," Whitepaw said sadly. "I'm _not_ good at anything. How can I be? I'm not as strong as Oakstorm, I don't understand medicine like Petalfall does, I can't jump as high as Berrypaw, and I can't hunt as well as Leafpaw. So, how can I get better when I'm not even _good_ at something?"

Frostbreath eyed her son, eyed his head, how it seemed too big for his body, eyed his small, thin shoulders, eyed _everything_.

And she knew what the answer was.

"You never give up, Whitepaw," she mewed, watching his eyes widen in shock. "_That's_ what you're good at. It's your will to endure whatever's thrown at you and get back up again when you fall. _That's _what you're good at."

"But how?" he mumbled.

"You were born a fighter," she said gently. "You fought even when there was a guarantee that you might not survive through the night, and you fought when you fell ill a mere three days later. And you've kept fighting ever since."

Yes, Whitepaw may not be as strong as Oakstorm, he may not understand medicine like Petalfall, he may not be able to jump as high as Berrypaw, or even hunt like Leafpaw, be he was still her son, and he was a fighter.

"Try not to feel so overshadowed anymore, Whitepaw," Frostbreath mewed. "Because you're _so_ loved, and _so_ cherished. You're my fighter, my precious little fighter."

And she knew that it would stay that way.


End file.
